


Heart to Heart and Hand in Hand

by youreyestheyglow



Series: Christmas Fics [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Multi, ace!marco, smut cause that's fun, spirited narrations of The Grinch, trans!jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:02:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youreyestheyglow/pseuds/youreyestheyglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas in the EreJeanMarco household</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart to Heart and Hand in Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karkatsthong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karkatsthong/gifts).



> For Matty <3<3<3

"Get  _out_!" Jean roars.

Marco and I exchange glances. 

"It's  _Christmas_! It's the season of charity! Aren't you charitable, Jeanbo?  _Aren't you_?" Sasha's heart-wrenching cries somehow match Jean's in volume.

"You ate my pie!" **  
**

"I ate _the_ pie that  _happened_ to be yours!"

 _Never again_ , I mouth at Marco.  _Never again_.

He smiles ruefully at me. This is mostly his fault, really. I love him, but he's the one who's too nice to lock up the kitchen before Sasha comes over. But then, if he did, she'd just make puppy eyes at him until he opened it for her. He's too kind to last long against her.

Connie drags her out moments later, and Jean joins us in the kitchen, fuming. "Why do we always make pie before she comes over?"

"It was a Christmas pie," Marco reminds him gently. "And it's  _Christmas_."

"We should have the party on Christmas Eve and make the pie on Christmas."

"Next year."

"Or we could make Connie and Sasha host it."

My face twists into a horrified grimace. "And go inside their apartment? I've been there once since we moved them in, and it was an experience I'd like to  _never ever ever_ have again.  _Ever_."

"What about Armin? And Annie and Mikasa? They've got a nice, neat house."

"How do you know?" I ask. You couldn't pay me to ask my sister to take over Christmas for us:  _"Why, Eren? Is something wrong? Is it too much for you?"_ She does it on purpose, mostly to tease me - if Jean or Marco asked her, she'd say yes in a second and wouldn't give a shit - but  _I'd_ have to ask. So no.

"It's  _Armin, Annie, and Mikasa_. Do you  _really_ think their house is messy? They've got a fuckin  _house_ , for god's sake. They've got their shit together."

I huff. "Still."

"You just don't like going to your sister's house," Jean says, but drops it. "Reiner and Bertl's is out."

Marco grimaces. "Bertl tries," He offers half-heartedly.

"But Reiner is Reiner, and if I ever sit on a dildo again I'd like it to be one of my own," I finish for him. And for me. I don't ever wanna see their dildos again, please and thank you. "Leaving our house."

"We could go out to a buffet or something," Jean says. "No one has to go to anyone's house, Sasha can eat as much as she wants, and we don't have to clean up."

"And Sasha wouldn't get your pie," I add with a smirk. 

Jean scowls. "You say that like I'm trying to sound not-selfish. It's the whole reason we're  _having_ this conversation."

"We had this conversation last year, too," I remind him.

"And the year before that," Marco says.

"And the year before that," I continue.

"We didn't  _live_ together that long ago," Jean whines.

"We did  _in spirit_ ," I say with a grin. "Aaaaaaaaand this conversation is over, let's go!" I scoop Jean up like a baby, right out of his chair, and laugh maniacally as Jean yelps. 

"Asshole!" Jean yells in my face as I dump him on the couch. I'm not  _mean_ about it. I dump him  _gently_ upon the cushions. And there's no real anger in his voice. I've heard him be angry often enough to say that with total certainty. 

"But you love me!" I say gleefully. It's still fun to say, regardless of the number of years I've known it was true.

Jean huffs. "Yeah, but I don't know why," he mutters as he grabs my shirt and tugs me down for a kiss. 

I think it was just meant to be a peck-on-the-cheek type thing, but his lips touch mine and I maybe go a little tiny bit boneless. He tastes _good,_ sliding his tongue between my lips and over my teeth.  _Fuck_. I have to grab on to the couch behind his head so I don't freaking fall on him. 

His legs slide open. He grabs my hips and pulls me closer. "I wanna eat you out," I inform him. 

He laughs breathlessly. "Please do, thanks." 

The couch dips as Marco slides over the armrest. I pull away from Jean so I can kiss Marco. "Do you mind if I eat him out?" I murmur against his lips. 

Marco laughs and nods. He's told me before that Jean and I didn't have to ask, that he didn't mind watching, that he  _honestly_ didn't care, that he was happy Jean and I were happy, that if he didn't feel like watching he'd go do something else, and a billion other things, and I told him I'd ask anyway. He gave up eventually and just let me ask.

I kiss him one more time before I slide down between Jean's knees. Jean's dark eyes are glued to me and he's gorgeous, he's fucking gorgeous, and Marco kisses his temple and Marco's gorgeous too and I get  _both of the_ _m_. Holy  _fuck_ how did I get this lucky? 

Marco must be doing a damn good job of distracting Jean, 'cause Jean doesn't say a word about the way my hands are shaking when I unbutton his pants. I have to prompt him to lift his hips so I can tug his pants down.  _That_ gets his attention, though - kinda - and the hand that isn't around Marco's shoulders finds my hair, combing through it as he tries to simultaneously stare at me  _and_ Marco. His eyes are gonna pop out of his head soon. 

I kiss my way up his thighs. I'm kinda giving him time to adjust, but honestly, his thighs are  _really_ fucking smooth and I like running my lips over them. And I like watching goosebumps cover his skin. 

Marco drags Jean's attention away from me so he can kiss him, and I take the opportunity to shuffle backwards and pull Jean's pants off altogether. It's not like he needs them right now. 

I suck a hickey into Jean's thigh, right up next to his crotch, and he  _whines_. I glance at Marco. He just kisses Jean's jaw. I make a mental note to keep an eye on him - Jean gets grabby when he orgasms, and while  _I_ am totally fine with some hair-pulling, I know it bugs Marco. Not that Jean  _doesn't_ know, but he forgets sometimes. It's like an unspoken agreement between the two of us: if one of us is touching Marco when we come, the other has to make sure we don't accidentally chew Marco's lip off or something. 

I lick a zigzag up between Jean's labia and he shudders so hard I think he maybe just caused an earthquake somewhere. 

Marco catches my eye and winks at me - Marco-code for  _do what I do_. 

When he licks a stripe up Jean's jugular, I lick straight up Jean's crotch.

"Jesus  _Christ_ -" Jean gasps as his thighs clench around my head. I wrap my arms around his legs and hold them there, looking to Marco for my next cue. 

It takes me a second - the sight of Marco's lips on Jean's skin is brain-scrambling - but when he sucks a hickey into Jean's neck, I suck on Jean's clit until his toes are curling. 

I follow Marco's lead for a few minutes, licking and kissing every square millimeter of Jean's crotch until he's shaking, a brainless mass on the couch. 

Marco gently turns Jean's face towards him and shoves his tongue down Jean's throat.

I tongue-fuck Jean until I can feel him squeezing around my tongue, his thigh muscles jumping as he moans into Marco's mouth. And at the last second I glance up to make sure Marco's not in danger of having his hair pulled out of his head, pull my tongue out, and suck on his clit and he comes  _so fuckin hard it's beautiful_. 

I lap at him until he unclenches his legs from around my head. 

Marco brushes Jean's hair away from his forehead, smiling at the dazed look on his face. "You ok there?"

Jean nods and reaches for me, tugging gently at my hair until I move up to kiss him. "Love you so much." 

I grin. "Tell me that some other time. When I  _haven't_ just blown your mind with the best sex you've ever had." _  
_

He gives me a withering glance. " _Best_? Don't flatter yourself." He can't quite keep up the snark, though, and pulls me into a one-armed hug, aka the most awkward hug ever because how the hell am I supposed to stand up and hug someone who's sitting down? Jean lets me go after a second, though, and I tug his pants back onto his legs. He lifts his hips and swats my hands away from the buttons. "I can do it myself, jeez."

I kiss his nose and wander over to the movie shelf. "Grinch?" 

"Grinch," they say at the same time. It's been a tradition of theirs since they were little, although this is my first time taking part in it - Marco laughed that Jean was like the Grinch, Jean grumped and denied it, Marco laughed harder because Jean was proving his point, and so on and so forth, until I joined in and agreed with Marco. Jean still hasn't forgiven me for it. 

The DVD player whirrs for a minute or two before the tray spits out and I can put the disc in. By the time I make it back to the couch, Jean's sprawled with his head in Marco's lap and his feet in my spot. He does lift them so I can sit down - no one could ever accuse Jean of rudeness - and then drops them back into my lap. I grab the remote out of his hand and click play. 

I find Marco's hand and he grins at me. I kiss the back of his hand and he blushes, because he's fuckin adorable. 

The two of them know every goddamn word to the Who song - not the band The Who, the Whos who live in Whoville who sing that weird-ass song about fahoo and doray and welcoming Christmas, aka the one I have  _never been able to figure out_ \- but Jean grins at me, honestly happy, non-snarkily happy, and I can't bring myself to make fun of him for it. When they sing the "Heart to heart and hand to hand" line they fucking touch each other's chests and then each other's hands, Marco raising our intertwined hands as he grins at me. They're such fucking dumbasses and dear  _god_ I love them so much it  _hurts_ and I still can't figure out how I somehow managed to worm my way into their relationship when they've literally been together since they were, like, 5. 

Marco pokes me before the song ends. "Narrate!" 

"What?"

" _Narrate!_ We need a narrator!"

And then Jean picks up, voice deep and angsty: "And they'll sing! And they'll sing! And they'll _sing sing sing_!"

Marco nods encouragingly at me, and I make a valiant effort: "And the more the Grinch thought about - of - this Who Christmas song - sing..." 

Jean and Marco grin at me. Not mockingly, though.  _Fuck_ I don't know how to handle this when Jean's not being a douche. My heart grows two fucking sizes just looking at him. How am I supposed to deal with that?

Jean goes through the Grinch's whole monologue, complete with facial expressions - an overexaggerated frown for the most part, until I step in with "And then he got an idea! A wonderful, awful idea! The Grinch got a wonderful, awful idea!" Jean doesn't miss a beat with the triple-chin evil grin he pulls, even with my fuckup in the narration. 

I expect Marco to do the singing - he hasn't had a part yet, and I mean, how many speaking  _are_ there in the Grinch? - but nope, Jean sings along, and Marco prompts me to join the two of them. 

I get into the spirit of things as we go along - it's hard not to, honestly. Within five minutes I'm putting more into the narration than the actual goddamn narrator. And Marco  _still_ hasn't said a line.

And then we get to the part where the Grinch stuffs the tree up the chimney.

It's always been my favorite part, honestly. Watching him find bullshit ways to get shit out of houses - and then the friggin  _tree_ just -  _kills_ physics - it's great. I actually know the words to this part. "As the Grinch took the tree, as he started to shove, he heard a small sound, like the coo of a dove. He turned around fast, and he saw a small Who! Little Cindy-Lou Who, who was no more than two. She stared at the Grinch and said -"

"Santy Claus," Marco pipes up in a voice so high I'd have thought he was on helium, "why, why are you taking our Christmas tree? Why?"

Excuse me for missing my next line, but it's not like I'm the only one laughing - Jean's in tears, and his Grinch voice is cracked and broken up for a good couple lines. 

And that's when I realized Cindy-Lou Who only had  _one friggin line_.

When the credits rolled, right after another touching "Heart to heart and hand in hand," I poke Marco. "Why do you only have one line?"

"We needed a Cindy-Lou Who, and Jean said I acted like a child - because the fact that we were both six wasn't a good enough reason - so I just kinda - took it. I had a really high voice as a kid, anyway."

"So you took the one-line part over the narrator?"

"Mr. Kirschtein used to narrate."

"He was a fan of the original poem," Jean said. "Knew all the words already."

"Well, fuck, I guess I didn't live up to his legacy, huh." Damn. 

Jean pulls himself up and swings himself into the spot between me and Marco so he can kiss me. "No, you were better, trust me."

His kiss leaves me maybe a little bit breathless, so I choose not to argue.

He jumps up to put the DVD away as it returns to the main screen, and Marco pulls me in for another kiss. "You did great, love." 

Jean sighs wistfully as he glances at the kitchen. 

"We'll make another pie tomorrow," I promise him. 

He grins. "I still can't believe she ate the  _whole thing_."

Marco snorts. "I can."

"You don't like eating before you go to sleep anyway," I console him.

He grimaces. "You have a point." He takes my hand as we head into the bedroom. Marco links his arm through mine. We have to walk through the door sideways. It's stupid. I don't give a shit. 

We don't so much 'get into pajamas' as 'strip down to boxers' - except Jean, who likes wearing my t-shirts to bed, but even he doesn't bother with pants. Between the three of us and the king-sized duvet Marco used in college, there's so much heat in the one bed we could cook a soufflé. Clothes aren't all that necessary. 

Marco is the only one of us who can sleep on his back, so he sleeps in the middle - Jean curls up against his side and I end up tangled around him like a pair of headphones around a phone charger. 

Marco falls asleep fast as all hell, like usual, and I'm on my way out when Jean tugs at my hand. 

I find his eyes, barely visible in the darkness, and his lips twitch up for a second before he threads his fingers through mine and drops our hands on Marco's stomach. 

When I fall asleep, it's because his thumb is stroking my hand.


End file.
